Date: Sat, 14 Jun 2008 12:15:45 +0000
From: Hankster1430@bellsouth.net
Subject: The Author, a short story
The Author
A Short Story
The author was lying naked in bed. He had been tossing and turning for two
hours, unable to fall asleep. The house was deadly silent. There were no
sounds at all. The evening was cool and the air conditioning system was
not active. He couldn't even hear the refrigerator turning on and off.
He was a loner. Making friends was not easy for him. He never knew what
to say. He was definitely a social misfit. He was young, clean and fairly
good looking. His body was lean and bore no extra pounds. He could never
seem to endear himself to anyone he met. If he desired sex, he paid for
it. He'd go to one of the several strip joints in town and proposition one
of the young male dancers. For the right price they were up for anything,
and I do mean `up.'
He filled his days in total devotion to his job as an editor at a daily
newspaper. His evenings were filled writing erotic gay stories. His
characters substituted for the friends he didn't have.
He was trying so hard but he just couldn't fall asleep. Indeed he was wide
awake. He had tossed away his covers some time ago and now lay on his
back, spread eagle on top of the now crumpled bed sheet. He thought of one
of his boys, who had just spent the night with him yesterday, and his hand
wandered down to his crotch. He began to stroke his cock which was getting
harder by the second. Then he heard a noise and stopped his stroking. His
cock went instantly limp. What was that noise?
He listened intently and discerned what seemed to be a clacking sound.
What was it? He still couldn't identify the faintly heard noise. Where
was it coming from? He was frightened but he got out of the bed and slowly
approached his bedroom door. The sound was louder now and he was sure it
was coming from his home office up the hall.
He crept stealthily toward his office. As he did the sound got louder, and
suddenly he knew what it was. Somebody was using his computer and typing
away at a very rapid speed.
The office door was open. He approached from the side and looked in as
cautiously as he could. His heart was beating wildly, and he was scared to
death. What he saw next totally frightened him and at the same time
excited him.
It was unbelievable. How could this be? Sitting at the keyboard and
typing away furiously, was a beautiful naked young man. The author could
not tell how tall he was, but this much was for sure. He was slender, and
totally hairless. Standing over him was an equally handsome, muscular,
naked young man. He was darker than the typist, but just as hairless. He
had a very erect cock which kept poking the typist in the back. The author
could only stand and stare as his own cock grew larger and larger.
"Well, don't just stand there, come in," the darker one said."
Stunned, the author managed to stammer. "Do I know you?"
"Of course you do silly. I'm Mark Taylor, and this good looking guy is
Larry Baker." Larry kept right on typing. He never moved from the chair.
The author said, "Stop the BS. Mark and Larry are life partners and
they're characters in my latest story. You must have read the first few
chapters, and this is nothing but a home invasion. I'm calling the
police." He started to reach for the phone, but Mark grabbed his arm and
stopped him. Actually, instead of being more frightened, the author
relaxed a little. He thought to himself that this stunning man was flesh
and blood, and not an apparition.
Mark said. "If the police come we'll go back into the computer, and they
won't see us. You'll end up in a mental ward."
"What's happening here? What the fuck do you want from me?" The author
pleaded.
Larry stopped typing. He stood up and displayed an erection at least an
inch bigger than Mark's. "We don't like the direction your story is taking
so we decided to write it for you.'
The author snickered. "That's rich," he explained. "My characters always
take over. Sometimes I type out a whole chapter, and don't know what I've
written until I re-read the entire text. What's you're complaint about the
story, pretty boy?"
Larry and Mark started to laugh. Larry ordered the author to look at them.
"Aren't we hot, young and virile?" he asked.
"Of course you are. I created you to be that way," the author sounded
insulted. "I still don't see what you are complaining about. What's wrong
with your story, I mean, my story?"
"What's wrong? What's wrong?" Mark repeated himself. "I'll tell you
what's wrong. It's supposed to be about hot, young sex, but your prose is
too artsy fartsy and there's practically no sex between us. Do you know
how frustrated we are getting? When are you going to write some hot sex
scenes for us? The answer is never," Mark answered his own question.
"So, I decided to write the stuff for you," Larry piped in as he stood up.
"Sit down here at the computer and read what I have written."
The author did as he was requested. As he read, his boner got stiffer, not
only for what he was reading, but because Mark and Larry were sucking each
other's cocks on the floor behind his chair, and he kept stealing peeks.
When he finished reading, he said, "This sure is hot material, but I could
never write this stuff, because I have never experienced it. Perhaps if I
could have sex like this, I could then write about it."
"You never had sex like this, never?" Larry asked. "You poor man. Let's
help him get some experience Mark." The two naked men stood up the equally
naked author. Each took an arm, and led him back to his bed. The author
took the spread eagle position he was in when he heard the clacking
keyboard. Larry crawled in on his right side, and Mark crawled in on his
left side. They looked at each other and smiled. Larry started to explore
the right side of the author's body with his tongue, and Mark explored the
left side. They went from head to foot trying not to miss one square inch.
After a while, Larry got on his knees between the author's legs. Mark
raised the author's feet, and placed them on Larry's shoulders. Larry
pounced on the author's yearning love hole. He licked all around the crack
and eventually placed the tip of his tongue at the opening of the author's
gyrating ass hole.
"Fuck me. Fuck me hard," the author yelled, but Larry took his time. He
penetrated the author's abyss of love with his tongue, while Mark bent down
and started to lick his cock and balls, using his tongue as if it was a
feather duster. The author was now moaning and twitching. He was at his
breaking point of ecstasy.
"When he could bear it no longer he begged Larry to fuck him, and fuck him
Larry did. Larry drove in hard with no lubrication. The author screamed
in pain and pleasure. When Larry was in to the hilt, he just held still
for the author to get used to him. During this moment Mark got up behind
his partner and placed his cock head on the edge of Larry's crack. He
rubbed it up and down for a bit until Larry yelled, "Fuck me too, my love."
Then Mark drove home.
As Larry and Mark began their steady love motions, the author grabbed his
cock and started stroking it hard. It occurred to him he was back where he
started except that now he had two handsome studs to help achieve life's
greatest pleasure.
"I'm cumming," Mark yelled, screaming so loud you could hear him in China.
"Me too," Larry shouted, and they shot off together. Marks spunk filled
the author's ass hole. He could feel some of it leaking out. Larry filled
his partner way up high and to Mark's ultra satisfaction.
Finally the author came. His eyes were closed while he writhed, gyrated
and screamed in pleasure. He got his sperm all over his abdomen and chest
and even a little on his chin. He wiped the cum off his body with his
forefinger, and took it in his mouth, swallowing as much as he could.
His eyes were still closed in some sort of blissful existence as he felt
Mark slip from his body. His hand was still wet with his cum and he rubbed
what remained all over himself. Without realizing or wishing it, he fell
asleep.
It was nearly morning when he awoke. Usually his dreams evaporated within
seconds of his waking up, but last night's dream remained vivid in his
memory.
"Wow," he thought. That was one hell of a masturbation fantasy. I don't
want to forget that one." He lay in bed for a while blissfully recalling
the fantastic orgasm he had had last night. It was the best ever. Finally
he crept out of bed, and did his morning things. You know, he went to the
bathroom where he shit, shaved and showered. He wondered when he shit why
his rectum was a little sore.
He dressed, made himself breakfast, and went off to work. His coworkers
seemed so much friendlier this morning. He wondered why. He could not see
the smile on his face which was attracting people to him. He was happy and
he made the people around him happy. Joe Williams even asked him to have
lunch with him. Joe was an out gay man and very attractive. The author
accepted readily, hoping more would come of this. On the way back to the
newspaper, Joe asked, "How about dinner this Saturday?"
"Sure." The author managed to mutter.
When he got home, the author was walking on air. He was too excited and
happy to make dinner. He was home a short while when he got a call from
Joe instructing where and when to meet him Saturday evening.
The author was euphoric. He found himself heading to his computer to
finish the story he had been writing about Larry and Mark. The computer
was turned on but was "asleep." That was strange because he always turned
it off. He dragged the mouse on the mouse pad and the computer came to
life. The screen bore the story he was writing. He began to read the
words on the screen. There was a description in vivid language of the
threesome he, Larry and Mark had had last night. The only difference was
that the events were described for two people, Larry and Mark.
He had never written those words.
The End